


Small Little Corner

by InspirionTouch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, Why do I do this to myself, nope - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InspirionTouch/pseuds/InspirionTouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The overwhelming stench of lilies and carnations filled the air. Never again was Dean buying either of those flowers for anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Little Corner

The overwhelming stench of lilies and carnations filled the air. Never again was Dean buying either of those flowers for anyone. 

The sound of low murmuring voices from downstairs traveled throughout the house. So many voices, so loud, not loud enough. He walked down the hallway, the voices dying out. The long, never ending hallway that brought him to the one place that... 

Why was he walking towards there? Dean knew what was at the end of it. He knew the minute he reached the end, he would break down. Dean could see the door cracked open, just a slither of light shown through. He told himself to turn around. His heart pleaded with him to turn around, but his bran just kept on telling his feet to keep moving. 

5 feet. 4 feet. 3 feet. 2 feet. 1 foot. 

Dean pushed the door open slowly, and let out a small sob. 

The walls were covered in a sky blue, a poster of a dinosaur and a robot along the wall. A shelf of books and teddy bears sat in the corner of the room next to the huge window. A toy chest of action figures, race cars and toy trucks sat at the end of the bed. Toys were scattered across the carpet, exactly where they were left. A book on the chair by the window, little sneakers and clothes by the closet, muddy from the day before. The bed was unmade, blankets pushed to the corner and the stuffed pig, Mr. Pork lay out of place. 

Dean stood there at the door and took it all in. His seven year old son's room. 

He blinked back the tears in his eyes. The view of the room became watery and blurry. His son. His and Castiel's world. Never would he hear that laughter again. The sound of little feet running down the hall. Pancakes on Saturday mornings, with "Dad can I have more sirup?". Playing tag in the backyard, all three of them, running around, giggling. Falling into a pillow pile in the living room for movie nights. Waking up to a little body slamming into you on Christmas mornings, screaming about Santa. No more birthday parties and cake smeared faces. 

Dean's entire body shook. Tears streamed down his face as he sunk down to the floor. He sobbed, coming faster and looser, until he was hysterical. Hi chest was heaving, and he couldn't breathe. It felt like someone was sitting on his chest. His hand scrambled for the door frame while his other grabbed at his chest, trying to rip at his heart. The pain was unbearable. Never had he felt pain like this; All the years he had hunted, had gotten shot, stabbed, even slashed by an evil monster. Not even getting ripped apart by hellhounds compared to the pain he felt at this moment. 

Arms encircled his chest from behind and held on for dear life. Castiel buried his head into the crook of Dean's neck and cried with him. Both of them shook, tears staining Dean's shirt and Castiel's hands. Both could barely breathe. They sat there and rocked each other back and forth. The pain they felt was too much to handle.  
No one came upstairs to check on them, and he was grateful for that. 

This happy little corner of the world they carved out for their family, outside of hunting, outside of all the destruction and monstrous things that go bump in the night, it was gone. 

He always knew that the good things in his life would never last.

**Author's Note:**

> I cried while writing this. And I always write really sad things, cause that is my default.  
> I am sorry.


End file.
